Put it on Shuffle and Repeat
by wishes on a broken stereo
Summary: Joint fic with AerisSerris - Short little ficlets too long to really be considered drabbles. Just little plot bunnies inspired by the colorful song selection of my musical library. Assorted pairings; ratings vary from K - T. R&R, my lovelies.
1. Kiss My Eyes & Lay Me To Sleep

**So, it's been much, much too long since I last posted anything. I blame this on my computer that died of a nasty virus and my lack of anything other than a spiffy Android phone to keep myself entertained with fanfictions and reviewing and the like. :c **

**I do, however, have much more time to write stuff in between the stresses of high-school life, including harsh breakups and haters. I **_**did **_**have some of this pretty decent NoCo oneshot typed up in my email drafts, buuuut it decided to erase itself when I tried editing a bit on my phone. D: To make up for it, and for my writer's block, I took the advice of a writer and decided to take a few songs and turn them into cute little drabble/ficlet things.**

**Soooo I'm going to try to keep this series up for a while; maybe give you guys about 30 of these things, 2 a chapter? I really don't know what the pairings will be for now. I really like writing Yaoi, so you guys will get to read about gay men's shenanigans just about every chapter. :D For now, that's what you're getting. Have fun with these.**

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_**p.u.t.i.t.o.n.s.h.u.f.f.l.e.a.n.d.r.e.p.e.a.t.**_

_Do You Remember? – Jay Sean.  
Pairing: Noah/Cody.  
Genre: romance/light angst._

Noah lay back on the plush brown duvet covering his small twin bed, head hitting the pillow with a muffled thud. He kicked off his sneakers and pondered the long day of school. The students generally enjoyed their class president's presence like always. Well, except for the few that actually had the guts to say anything. The bookworm had too much power and too many connections to actually have many tormentors, despite his sharp tongue, high IQ, and homosexuality.

There was one little thing that was out of the ordinary; a mousy-haired, gap-toothed little thing named Cody that made Noah unsure of the confidence he'd spent years building. You see, after World Tour, the boy's father had gotten transferred to a branch of the company he worked for in Montreal, which just so happened to be where Noah lived. Cody had begun going to the other's high school, much to the snarker's delight. The two boys had been keeping a relationship relatively under wraps since the island, with only Izzy and Eva knowing. This location change would be the perfect chance for the two to get to know each other on a more personal level without cameras watching their every move.

That was four months ago. During those four months, the scrawny tech-geek had been given everything Noah could possibly give: his heart; his complete devotion; his bed that one time Cody's father kicked him out after admitting he was gay; his _virginity_… During those four months, Cody had developed a physical and emotional attraction for the local musician, Trent. He'd also shredded the bookworm's heart to woo said boy, who not only was straight, but had a girlfriend…

Yet Noah had worked painstakingly hard to put back together the tattered remains of his heart and find it in said organ to forgive Cody eventually. He did it mostly by remembering all of the good times they'd shared: all the video games they had spent hour after hour playing and defeating; all the easy conversations that went into the wee hours of the morning on the phone; all the secrets whispered into ears before drifting off to sleep in each other's arms; all the tears wept during the hard times, even while the breakup itself was going on… It was enough to keep Noah grasping to the small, recurring thought that Cody still loved him. As sensible as it would be to let it go, he just couldn't, and he'd fight with all the strength he could muster to get Cody back.

And next time, he wouldn't let that blue-eyed boy out of his grasp again...

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_Six Feet Under the Stars – All Time Low.  
Pairing: Duncan/Noah. [one-sided, I suppose.]  
Genre: humor/romance._

Another cold winter's day in Toronto. Snow was falling lightly outside the small club a nineteen-year-old Duncan loved to frequent so much. Great local bands, great service, and enough liquor to keep a good buzz going for the entire night. What could possibly be better?

Oh, right, maybe the fact that the punk had a date for the first time in ages since Gwen had broken up with him three months earlier to get back with Trent; the musician's charm was just irresistible enough for the Goth to say "I want to be just friends". But he really liked this one; he didn't want to screw up and make things awkward between the two of them after this.

So he'd spent about two hours in this dark corner, sitting in this booth next to the shorter teen and going on about his opinions about the world and how it was going straight to hell, thanks to the economy and the wars and all that other good stuff. He wasn't too horribly shocked to find that they both shared the same cynical thoughts, a first in a date.

He tried not to make a move that was too bold, but the arm he'd had wrapped around their thin waist almost possessively wasn't tugged away earlier, so the punk assumed the other didn't mind. Plus, after three servings of liver cancer in a glass, Duncan discovered he was a good kisser. _Really _good.

Speaking of kissing, he hadn't noticed a pair of dark, Jaeger-tinged lips almost eagerly pressed against his own, dark brown hair mussed and falling into dark eyes. This kid was an adorable drunk, so affectionate and so unlike the hard-faced, sarcastic jerk he was hours ago when he was sober. He wanted to make a move on this kid before his high-and-mighty attitude returned.

Resisting the very strong urge to comply for a little game of tonsil hockey, Duncan muttered against the other's lips, the sweet stench of alcohol in his breath, "Hey Princess. You want my number? Maybe we could get together again sometime."

Thin fingers ran through the green Mohawk that lay askew from lack of product, emitting a shudder from the older teen. "Hmm…? Oh, sure, Dunc… Y-You're a pretty great guy, you know that?"

Duncan chuckled; the boy was hammered beyond belief. "Well, thanks, Noah; you're not too bad yourself. I mean that in more than one way, of course…" A smirk flitted across his lips as he ran his tongue across the boy's lips, the sharp cold of his tongue piercing sending shivers through him.

_Let's just hope he likes me without the beer goggles, _he thought with an uncharacteristic uncertainty.

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**Yay, you guys finally have something to actually read from me again. Hope you enjoyed! Perhaps you'll come back for more? I sure hope so. Rate and review; any constructive criticism, praise, flames, and/or pairing suggestions are welcomed! :D**

_**Hasta pronto, mi **__**lectores**____**hermosas! **_**[See you soon, my lovely readers!]**

**- Female Darkish Cody. 3**


	2. Now There's No Place Else I Could Be

**I'm back to write more, my lovelies. :3 I'm happy to say that I have two more ficlets for you guys, and I'm ecstatic to see that both of them are requests from friends of mine! I really enjoy both of these pairings and the people who requested them. They're two of my closest friends, even though we're all connected through wires and satellites. I hope everyone enjoys them, though. C: I also hope to get more fanfics up on the site eventually; I have so many drafts in my binders just begging to be beta'd and published. :D**

**Now, without further ado…**

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_**p.u.t.i.t.o.n.s.h.u.f.f.l.e.a.n.d.r.e.p.e.a.t.**_

_Face Down – The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus.  
Pairing(s) – Alejandro/Duncan [as requested by FemaleGothNoah], mentioned Duncan/Courtney.  
Genre: hurt/comfort/romance.  
Notes: takes place anywhere before Duncan's quitting on episode one of TDWT._

A lithe figure slumps to the floor of the plane's confessional, moonlight bathing the small stall. Thin, choked sobs escape swollen lips. Tears fall freely from bruised turquoise eyes. Calloused hands cover a pierced face dripping with peach make-up, revealing more bruises and a cut or two.

"Why…? I… I love you and try my damn hardest to make you happy… All I get in return is… Pain…" A ragged sigh. "Why do I even try?"

Quiet footsteps approach the confessional; a sudden search for a place to hide follows. No luck. "Duncan? Is that you, _muchacho_?"

The Spanish accent is unmistakable. Alejandro is standing outside, in all his disgustingly perfect glory. "Fuck off, _Al, _this stall's occupado."

Icy jade eyes peek inside, filled with… what? Concern? Disdain? Indifference? Too hard to tell; Alejandro never was easy to read and figure out. Duncan figured that out immediately. "What is going on? It has to be major. Someone so brave such as yourself would never fret or cry over such petty issues."

As much as Duncan wants to break down and divulge every disgusting detail of what he has been going through since season one, he isn't about to do so with the shrewd Latino as his confidante. He would undoubtably find a way to use the confessions against him, drive him into the ground with his own past. "None of your business, you fucking snake."

Alejandro winces at the venom so heavily laced in the mohawked boy's tone; it's almost as if the words are being spat into his ears. He contemplates for a moment before coming into the stall, closing and locking the door behind him. "I only wish to help, _mi amigo_. I dislike seeing anybody in such distress. Now, come on, you cannot possibly keep something that seems so big a secret forever."

The delinquent lets out an angry groan and removes his hands from his face, wounds free to be gaped at. "Here! You happy? Go on, laugh! Go tell everyone else I look like a murder victim! Use it against me!" Tears threaten to spill over, but Duncan isn't going to let them fall; not in front of Alejandro. No need to look any weaker than he already is.

Cold, calculating eyes soften with shock and concern, their owner suddenly realizing the hurt in those blue eyes is real. Sure, an ulterior motive was there at first, but now… Alejandro actually feels guilty for wanting to take advantage over such a complex, painful secret. "Duncan… Who did this to you?"

A deadly silence cloaks the room. The punk chews at his lip for a few moments, a thin trail of blood already oozing from a cut. He sighs deeply and mutters, "C… Courtney… All I do is love her, but I get this in return... It's been like this since the beginning…" A sob clutches at his throat, threatens to emerge.

The taller male kneels to the floor and takes the other into his muscular arms gently, much like his mother did when he was younger, still getting teased by his two older brothers. "You deserve so much better than her, _mi ángel caído_. If she treats you so badly, she must be blind to the fact that you are the best she will ever have. You can find someone so much more worth the tears…"

Duncan's sigh is shaky as he rests his head on the Latino's shoulder. "You're right, Alejandro. I've finally had enough. It's time I find someone who won't pull this shit with me…"

Alejandro nods, the smallest hint of a smile creeping to his lips. "That someone could be anywhere, you know. The search can wait, though; you need to rest and let me take care of your wounds."

The delinquent's pondering on how he is going to end his troubles is interrupted. "I… I guess I should say thank you. I could say much more, but thank you so much. Just… Just don't tell anybody, okay? Nobody is supposed to know; Courtney said she'd mount my head on the wall if anybody found out."

The villain shudders at the thought of beheading. "Your secret is safe with me, Duncan. Though I bet you're wondering why I even decided to help you."

A silent nod is his only response, blue eyes now wide with curiosity.

"It is because I feel… as if I was put here to help the world, even if my methods aren't always orthodox sometimes. Right now, I want to help you put your wings back together… _mi ángel caído…_" the Spanish boy says, a soft smile now apparent.

"What does that even mean?" Duncan asks, pierced eyebrow furrowed in confusion.

"My fallen angel…" He presses his lips to the other's forehead gently, every sweet word ringing true for the first time in ages.

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_Kissin' U – Miranda Cosgrove.  
Pairing: Gwen/Bridgette. [as requested by AerrisSerris.]  
Genre: romance._

Bridgette had never thought that this was what become of her and her best friend. She hadn't wanted a relationship of any sort in the first place. Not since Geoff broke her heart so many months ago, claiming "he wasn't feeling it anymore". In all actuality, he did it be with Heather since Bridgette wouldn't go any further than the usual make-out session. After all, she did have some morals.

She had become so guarded and didn't trust many. She was so confused about just about everything these days. All she knew was that she didn't want to be hurt again. But when she saw or even thought of… _her_, the shatters of her heart came the slightest bit closer to being pieced back together.

The sweet nothings whispered in the surfer's ears rang so true, but she couldn't let herself be set up for heartbreak again. Those onyx eyes sent a pleasant ache through her veins with every glance; she almost forgot to breathe more than once. She didn't want that. Not because it was wrong, and not because the two were friends. Because she honestly didn't know if she could trust.

But when those painted lips that tasted of blueberry pressed against her own coconut-coated ones… It felt as if every doubt disappeared, all the fog cleared away. Every question was suddenly answered, and only one answer remained. She wanted to love, to be loved… by her best friend. Nobody else could make her feel so right and secure.

Sparks flew that one and only time, and Bridgette wanted them again. She craved certainty, wanted everything to make sense. She only felt that everything was going to be okay when they were together. Nothing else really mattered but those moments.

_Clear… You make everything crystal clear, Gwen…_

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**Gah, the second ficlet is so short… I'm ashamed. D: But I tried, and that's what counts, right? …Right? Meh, you guys are cool with short fics, I suppose, so deal. 'Til next time, you guys. :D Praise, constructive criticism, flames, and pairing suggestions are appreciated!**


	3. Take Me To That Great Place

**So, uh, I know it's been a while. Heh. I can't get to a computer as often as I'd like to these days, BUT I'm gonna try to change that. I've had these drabbles ready for quite a while now, and I feel bad for just getting them on now. Eh, what can I do. I guess I just have to hope that you guys like them. :3 They're hetero this time around, but you guys will still love them... Right? Enjoy!**

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**_p.u.t.i.t.o.n.s.h.u.f.f.l.e.a.n.d.r.e.p.e.a.t._**

_We'll Be A Dream - We The Kings ft. Demi Lovato._  
_Pairing: Alejandro/Gwen._  
_Genre: Romance._  
_Notes: Future!fic of sorts; AU; lots of fluff._

A nineteen-year-old Gwen drops the last box of her belongings on the plush, black carpet of her new dorm room at the Ontario College of Art and Design. Excitement bubbles in her stomach like she's never felt before; she had been dreaming of coming here since she was fourteen, and this is one of the best places in Canada to go for art majors, according to many online critiques she'd read months ago.

She isn't looking forward to unpacking all of her stuff, however; the boxes are haphazardly stacked all over the small living room. She sighs and sits down on the floor, just wanting to relax before the other girls of the dorm squeal their welcomes and shove muffin baskets in her face. Onyx eyes spot a small box near a black combat boot and stare at it curiously, eyebrow piqued.

Pale fingers work their way past silver duct tape and cardboard flaps to open the box. She's almost giddy at the thought of discovering the contents. She had so much junk all over her room, and she was in a hurry to pack, being the big procrastinator she is. She had just jammed knick-knacks in small boxes and stuffed her clothes and bigger stuff in suitcases at the last minute. She shoves past styrofoam packing peanuts and gasps when she reaches the bottom of the box, white pieces speckled throughout her hair.

The Goth grasps a large stack of photos hidden beneath various paint brushes and small trinkets. She soon discovers that they are of her as a moody 16-year-old, eyes heavily lined and teal-streaked hair cut short. Flipping through the pictures, she strolled down Memory Lane, remembering her little brother. He was the one who would spray paint her black and purple walls with pink paint to irk her every so often. Her mother was the one who would bake blueberry muffins when she wasn't feeling her best. She stopped at a picture of... him.

Her first love. He'd been a new student at her high school, and he'd quickly captivated the entire female population. However, he had developed an interest in Gwen, and after much rejection, contemplation, and a fateful game of Spin The Bottle, they began to date. She remembered the glares and death threats she'd receieved every day from every other girl, from head cheerleader Heather and her lackey, Lindsay, to political candidates Courtney to uber-geek Beth. Heck, even her punk of an ex-boyfriend Duncan had given her a dirty look once.

She remembered the way those chips of iced jade gazed at her longingly during Honors English while idly writing poems sweet enough to give Shakespeare diabetes. The way those long, dark locks would fall into his sweaty face during soccer practice, and she was there to observe every glorious second of stretching muscle, sketching frantically. How safe she would feel in his big arms, so small and vulnerable with only the sound of Silverstein rumbling through her iPod deck in her room...

She would spend countless nights lying in bed, the gears in her brain whirring away as her visions danced with heart-shaped clouds and birds. She looked back on the days they would spend hand in hand, their footprints making twin tracks down the worn dirt path at the park, or when they drove around town all day with the goofiest, lovestruck grins plastered on their faces. Her heart would pound so hard when he even slipped the slightest bit into her train of thought, almost ripping out of her chest, metaphorically speaking.

And then that time his father forbid him from seeing her after sneaking out at one o'clock in the morning. He couldn't disobey his own flesh and blood, but that didn't stop him from taking the advantage of using every minute they had at school together. And even then, every once in a while, he would still sneak out of his window to meet his fair-skinned beauty.

But when senior year approached, and the two realized they had dreams and features just waiting to come true, they reluctantly went their separate ways, promising to keep each other in their hearts. All those good times would always be remembered, as would the bad. Even with the boyfriends after him, Gwen would always remember Alejandro. Even if he was now nothing but just a distant dream...

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_Kiss A Girl - Keith Urban._  
_Pairing: Trent/Courtney._  
_Genre: Romance._  
_Notes: Lots and lots of fluff. You have been warned._

Sweet music drizzled the grassy field like honey one quiet night, silver moonlight shining on two lone figures. Long fingers coaxed mellow notes from their wooden tower as the backbone of the melody. The gliding of a bow brought the demure sound of a violin, the rich sound shattering the silence. The duet was highly unlikely before, but beautiful just the same; it felt right now, as if the two had been destined to make beautiul music together.

Trent had been trekking to this meadow every night since he had discovered it while exploring the outer parts of the Playa Des Losers resort after his elimination from the island. The emptiness of it gave him a place to let the gears of his mind whir in peace, and it was an amazing place to just kick back and let his fingers do the guitar playing. He'd spent hour after hour out here, even sneaking out to sleep under the stars every once in a while. Here was where he'd come to terms with his ridiculous obession with the number nine that had plagued him for so long, digging it a grave in the deep unknowns of his subconscious.

He'd also been here when he realized he was better off without the Goth girl of his dreams. He had caused so much damage to himself from scaring her off, then mooning after her for so long. He knew that she had found love with someone new, and while he didn't exactly like who it was with, Trent was happy for Gwen. He was ready to do the same; he couldn't be lonely in this big, old world forever.

Courtney, on the other hand, had found the meadow and Trent by accident the night of her arrival after her World Tour elimination. She was aggravated beyond belief at her hasty elimination and how easily she'd been coerced into helping Alejandro cheat in China. The Latino's charm had been too much, even for her stony confidence. Add the slightest mention of having to see Duncan at ease with everybody, despite his chauvinistic, cheating ways, and you have yourself a steaming batch of raging Courtney stew. The need to wind down was dire, and her trusty violin was her only outlet; her punching bag was at home.

When she began to play frantically that fateful night, Trent listened in carefully and joined in with the soft, calming tune of his acoustic guitar. The rhythms and beats were quite different, but in an odd, nearly impossible way, they fit. Every since then, the two met every dusk, their shared love of making music cementing a bond. Soon, their play time grew shorter and shorter as they actually began to converse and learn about each other. They laughed at the time Trent pitched a fit at being forced to wear a suit at his older brother's wedding reception and his creative way of disposing of the awful clothing. They cringed at the memory of Courtney's utter disappointment of losing her favorite childhood pet, Miss Fluffernut the cat.

After getting to know the overachiever and how she ticked, Trent realized she wasn't as bad as she seemed to be on the show. True, she was bossy, shrill, and had one hell of a temper, but she was also determined, proud, and fierce, not to mention easy on the eyes. The musician eventually developed a romantic attraction for Courtney, and tonight was the night he planned to make his move. The scars of his heart were now healed, and he was ready. He stopped plucking at his trusty guitar and glanced at the girl, emerald eyes blazing with a new fire that hadn't blazed in months. "Courtney?"

Soprano melodies screeched to a sudden halt as onyx orbs met his. "Is something wrong, Trent? I wasn't out of tune, was I?" She started plucking at the strings of her violin with dainty fingers, every note ringing out crystal clear. She wouldn't settle for anything less.

"No, no, you were fine. Perfect, even. I just... I want to try something. I've been wanting to for the longest time. Is it okay with you if I do?" He set his guitar against a sturdy oak tree and strode to the C.I.T. almost nervously, brushing a few strands of black hair out of his eyes.

A thin eyebrow shot up in confusion as she nodded slowly, her caramel hair bouncing. She set her violin in the plush grass behind her and met Trent halfway. "What is it?"

"I,,, I just want to say goodbye. N-not to you! To all these blues that come with being alone. I'm sure you do, too, right?" He pauses, only to continue after she ponders this and nods with a slight frown. "All it could take is a little something like this.." he trailed off to lean in and pressed his lips against hers softly, sweetly. His arms made their way around her thin waist almost hesitantly, as if expecting to be pushed away.

Courtney's eyes widened and met Trent's, shock meeting peace. Her heart began to race as she felt her cheeks heat up furiously. She held back, hesitating for a few moments. She didn't know what to make of the boy kissing her that was becoming increasingly attractive by the second. Her curiosity got the best of her as she surrendered to the boy's kiss.

It was over as soon as it began, and the Latina didn't want to be lonely anymore; not by herself anyways. However, she could get used to being alone with Trent, just the two of them.


	4. You Put The Spark To The Flame

**Hi there, all! Uh… pardon my extremely extensive absence. I couldn't get to a computer with access to FF long enough to type up these two measly oneshots that I really should have more of. I am extremely sorry! :c I also lost a bit of my devotion to Total Drama to Glee and The Glee Project… heh. I also have a Tumblr, if you want to find me! o: xxmusicismysocietyxx(dot)tumblr(dot)com. Follow, maybe find out a little more about me?**

**ANYWAYS, here you guys go. I hope you enjoy these; they're really old and suckish.**

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_**p.u.t.i.t.o.n.s.h.u.f.f.l.e.a.n.d.r.e.p.e.a.t.**_

_Any Kind of Guy – Big Time Rush.  
Pairing: Harold/Cody.  
Genre: romance/humor.  
Notes: Fluffflufffluff. You have been warned._

The crackling hiss of hot metal pressing auburn hair flat shattered the silence of Harold McGrady's bathroom. He didn't exactly like the looming sense of danger he felt holding his older sister's straightener, but suffereing a few minor first-degree burns would be worth it if a pair of baby blues gave him a second glance.

The nerd blinked, the thin streaks of black liner slightly heavy on his eyelids. His rectangular glasses were replaced by an equally thick-lensed, horn-rimeed pair. He brushed his long bangs to the right, away from the part seperating his hair. He didn't exactly look like someone Gwen or Duncan would waste time with, which was what he was going for, but he hoped it was close enough to get approval.

Ten minutes passed before his hair was straight enough to meet the standards of the tutorial guys on Youtube. Another five before he was dressed in the white button-down he reserved for formal occasions, a skinny red tie, and dark straight-legged jeans. A pair of black high-tops were slipped on before the redhead ran out the door to catch the bus.

When he arrived at school, he receieved looks of shock, amusement, and even a few of satisfaction. There was, however, only one that counted in his opinion. He had a new confidence in his stride as he walked to his locker. He felt his heart skip a beat at the familiar squeak of his crush's worn sneakers.

"Harold? What's with the new look, dude? Looking to impress a lady or two?" He turned to hear that boyish voice and smiled warmly at the scruffy brown hair and gap-toothed grin.

"Something like that, Codemeister. So… do you like?" the skater nerd asked, green eyes gleaming with eagerness.

"Well… It's definitely new," Cody replied, analyzing the taller boy. He'd never admit to one of his best friends that he secretly loved the change. Even though he would like Harold, no matter what, there was something about the hipster look that just… gah.

A sudden fear crept into the redhead's features as his eyes dulled. He shook his head. "If you don't like it, I can – I mean, the girl I like won't, either, I bet."

"No, no, I like it! But why change for somebody? If they truly like you, they want the real you, hamburger shirt and all." The tech-geek smiled and placed a hand on his friend's arm.

The touch sparked a bit of reassurance in Harold. "You think so? And they wouldn't mind if I… showed them how I felt, no matter what I was dressed in?"

"Even if you were wearing nothing but that ridiculous Speedo, Har – mmph!" He was cut off by a pair of chapped, warm lips pressed to his own, red facial hair tickling his chin. His face began to heat up with embarrassment as a small squeak of shock escaped his lips. The kiss was chaste, but it was… nice. Much nicer than he'd ever expected kissing another guy to be.

The taller boy pulled away, eyes tinged with shame and embarrassment. "S… sorry. I just… I really like you and whatnot. I'm willing to change for you; to be any kind of guy you want, just to be next to you, y'know?"

Cody chucked softly and rubbed the nape of his neck, a small grin creeping to his lips. "Why didn't you tell me? All you have to do for me to be your any kind of guy… is be you."

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_Malchik Gey – t.A.T.u.  
Pairing: Eva/Noah [one-sided]; Noah/Cody.  
Genre: romance/angst._

Eva couldn't believe what she'd let herself get into. The one time she'd let her guard down and trusted someone, she fell for them, and when Evalyn Spalding falls for a person, a rare occurrence in itself, _**she falls hard.**_

It wasn't bad enough that she'd fallen for the only boy on this ridiculous reality series that she didn't have this overwhelming urge to crush his skull into dust. Oh, no. Karma had decided to toss her a curve ball. No, it wasn't the fact that the boy had wet noodles for limbs and no physical stamina whatsoever. His impressive brainpower made up for that.

Noah Ishta, Total Drama's resident snarky bookworm and the teen who had captured Eva's heart without even trying, was a homosexual. As gay as unicorns vomiting rainbows and even had a boyfriend to prove it.

The she-jock wasn't one for jealousy, but every time she caught a stolen glance in the peanut gallery, ocean blue meeting coffee bean brown, her heart throbbed with rage. The secret twining of spindly, pale fingers and her best friend's own tan, gracefully thin ones. The soft sounds of lips connecting, parting, reconnecting she heard from the juice bar as she lifted weights.

_She was so sick of it all._

She desperately wished and pleaded her growing feelings for the Indian boy would go away, but it was all merely empty words. Her emotions whirled around in her heart like a tornado, just waiting to strike and ready to destroy all in its path.

At the same time, she hoped that someday before this stupid competition was over for good and everyone had to return home to their normal lives that Noah would see more than his best friend. More than the girl with liquid fire blazing in her copper eyes and muscles that almost put Chef Hatchet to shame.

Underneath all of the anger, the indifference, the utmost disdain towards most people, was just… a teenage girl. A teenage girl with fragile emotions trapped in a glass heart with barbed walls towering high around it to keep it all from being shattered into bits to leave her an empty shell of herself.

And Noah had gotten past those walls with ease, only to take a mallet to everything Eva worked endless months to keep hidden. He didn't even know it; he just kept on with that scrawny little twerp right in front of her. For a genius, he certainly was oblivious of the blows he was dealing to the girl's steadily breaking heart.

Still, she couldn't help but hold on to the very slight glimmer of hope that Noah would see her for who she was and how she felt. Even if it was realistically hopeless for her to think a gay boy would ever be able to love her.

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**...Well, there you have it. This'll probably be the last chapter for a while, but I hope you really liked them. Rate and review; any constructive criticism, praise, flames, and/or pairing suggestions are welcomed! :) **

_**Hasta luego, mis lectores hermosas!**_

**- Female Darkish Cody.**


	5. Young Love Is Such Dumb Love

**Okay, before I start, I just wanted to give a warm welcome from the **_**Put it on Shuffle and Repeat **_**team of one to AerisSerris! We've agreed to turn this into some sort of partnership deal, and maybe writing with her will give me a bit more motivation to work. Summer's close to arrival, so that should free up about 80% of my time to write fanfiction for a cartoon most of the sane fans left ages ago. Anyways, this chapter is a combination of my writing and hers.**

**And if you like her work, be sure to check out, if you haven't already, **_**Total Drama Blainerific! **_** It's quite a fic, and probably the only create-a-character fic in progress that still gets updated and plenty of reviews! :)**

**Note: It seems that either my ficlets are too short, or hers are too long... Oh well! They're still quite nice. Just the first of many partnered chapters, so watch out!**

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_**p.u.t.i.t.o.n.s.h.u.f.f.l.e.a.n.d.r.e.p.e.a.t.**_

_A Thousand Years – Christina Perri.  
Pairing: Noah/Cody.  
Genre: romance/light angst.  
Notes: set post-TDWT._

Dark blues and purples and bright specks of white painted the sky that quiet night, all circling the full moon in some sort of mystical dance of the ancients. The dingy water of the lake actually glowed as it rippled with the light breeze. Everything did; the night did wonders for even the most disgusting places, not excluding Camp Wawanakwa.

Two lean bodies lay on the sand of the lake's shore, side by side. They were unmoving, but not dead; the gentle fall and rise of their chests gave sign of life. They lay in almost uncomfortable silence, their respective pairs of eyes gazing into the great beyond above them.

A sigh broke the vigil. "You wanted to talk, Noah. Talk." The voice was higher in pitch than its owner's should be for his age. Pools of turquoise didn't dare tear away from the sky.

Dark brown orbs darted to the other, half-lidded with something unrecognizable: boredom, disdain, or perhaps indifference? "What is there to say, Cody?" Noah replied, voice raspy from disuse.

"Maybe that you're sorry, or that you're willing to accept that you made a mistake?"

"… Right. I suppose what I did was horribly wrong."

This was true. Apparently, avoiding your best friend wasn't the best way to show aforementioned person you missed them after a few months without any contact whatsoever.

"Just… why? You suddenly disappeared from my life after you got voted off, then we come back here as if we're strangers again, like that first day. What gives, dude?" the brunet asked, his question tinged with hurt. "I thought we were best friends!"

"We are, Cody." His expression was softer now, more vulnerable. "I've just been confused for a long time now."

"About what?" Those two simple words were just the beginning of the flood of questions the tech-geek had, but he decided to merely keep it simple and not scare Noah from what seemed to be their reunion.

"Myself. You. Everything." An exasperated sigh. "Can… can I tell you something if you promise not to flip your shit?"

Cody raised a thin eyebrow and shifted, lying on his side to face Noah and get a better look at him. "Sure I guess. Shoot, man."

The bookworm fought the heat rushing up his neck. "You know how I'm gay, right?"

A soft scoff escaped Cody's lips. "Yeah, but that's kind of obvious." He received a glare, to which he responded with a sheepish apology.

"Well, I've been thinking about this a lot, and I'm pretty sure I love someone… I'm almost positive, actually." He averted his eyes, seeming uncharacteristically nervous for such a stone-faced boy.

The blue-eyed teen's eyes widened in a combination of joy and awe. "Really? That's great, Noah! Who's the lucky man who's stolen that cold heart? If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to, but —"

Noah ignored the jibe at his stoicism and interrupted his friend. "I want to tell you, of course! That's, uh, kind of the problem. I know I have strong feelings for him, but I don't know how he'd react. He's somewhat unpredictable with this type of thing." He shifted to face Cody, trying not to let his anxiety crack the mask he'd been wearing since he'd summoned Cody here.

"Just show him, dude! Be confident about it! Guys dig confidence." The shorter boy grinned. His contentment was soon replaced with bewilderment as he felt a grip on his collar, a shift in position.

Thin fingers clasped the fabric tightly, and before Cody could piece together the situation, lips were on lips, making that cute gap-toothed grin disappear. His eyes went wide in shock, because _holy shit, _his best friend was kissing him, and he was pretty sure he didn't hate it as much as he thought he would…

Shit.

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_**p.u.t.i.t.o.n.s.h.u.f.f.l.e.a.n.d.r.e.p.e.a.t.**_

_Sweet Dreams — Beyoncé.  
Pairing: LeShawna/Heather.  
Genre: romance/humor.  
Notes: pointless fluff; "a bit rushed, but whatever. :P"_

To the typical teenager, sleep was your best friend. To any individual suffering from depression, or perhaps insomnia, sleep could be your worst enemy.

For Heather Chang, sleep was both. Because almost every night, without fail, she would dream of the one thing — or one person, I should say — that she both despised and adored, and knew was way out of her reach.

LeShawna Williams, the ghetto girl of Total Drama Island, was, in Heather's opinion, the most beautiful girl she had ever met. Her long ebony hair, dark chocolate eyes, even that little beauty mark by her lips, coated with some mysterious lipstick. Her figure, larger in comparison to Heather's slim figure, was curavceous in all the right places - her clothes, while _ext-a-remely_ tacky, showed each and every one of them.

And Heather hated her for it.

She sighed, sitting on the Dock of Shame, filing her nails half-heartedly as her thoughts, once again, returned to LeShawna.

The Asian girl hated her for invoking these thoughts in her, of both love and lust. Of pressing her against the wall and making her shut up with her lips, and weaving her fingers through her thick black hair. Of simply being held in her arms and inhaling her sweet, clear, fruity scent.

Almost every night she dreamed, and there was LeShawna, always agonizingly close, yet so desperately out of her reach. Fuck, she didn't know if they could even be called dreams. Maybe they were nightmares. A sweet dream, or an utterly beautiful nightmare, she wasn't sure. Night time visions of her guilty pleasure, the ghetto girl that somehow had managed to weave her way straight into her heart.

Heather was gorgeous, and she knew it. Her own long, raven black hair, her lean figure, her killer thighs, and the steel grey gaze that could read straight into your soul and determine the kind of person you were. When she wanted a guy, she had him. No man could resist her if she wanted him— it was a simple as that. She simply directed her charm towards him, and he was putty in her hands. When she was tired of him, she dropped him. Also simple.

On the blue moon that she wanted a girl, well, that was more challenging; you never really knew which way they swung. But if they swung her way, again, utterly simple. They were hers, to play with, and then to throw away when she was tired of them. Same old, same old.

But LeShawna... she was different. She wouldn't fall that easily, she knew. For one, she hated her. Utterly hated her. And two, finding out her sexuality had proved thus far to be difficult. When it came to the love affairs of others, like Gwen and Trent, LeShawna was more than eager to step in and help them out with their relationship. But when it came to herself, LeShawna closed the door and threw away the key.

What would it be like to kiss her, she wondered? To press her cherry-coated lips against what must have been mango, maybe tangerine, perhaps even the kumquats that LeShawna wore on her shirt. To do nothing but kiss her, then pull away for air, breathing in the smell of tropical fruit that LeShawna loved so much.

"LeShawna," she let out a breathless sigh before she could stop herself, closing her eyes and feeling the breeze drifting from Lake Wawanakwa.

"Uh, what?"

Heather's eyes snapped open in horror. Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She quickly plastered a scowl on her face, hoping it would make up for the red blush on her cheeks.

"Ugh, nothing," she said in her favorite sneer. "I just figured I would grace you with my lovely voice, considering that all you've had to hear all day was that gravelly Goth voice."

Heather could practically feel LeShawna's chocolate orbs glare into her — no, more like burn a hole into the back of her skull. "Uh, that 'gravelly Goth' has a name, you know. And she happens to be my friend."

The Asian queen bee turned around, standing up and glaring at LeShawna. "You keep talking as if I care, LeShawna."

LeShawna snorted. "Good point. What's the damned point? You don't listen to a word I have to say, anyway."

If only you knew, Heather grinned absentmindedly, her eyes seeing those lips move but her ears hearing nothing, making words that she couldn't hear. There was that temptation again, to press her against the Dock and shut her the HELL up —

"Heather, what the hell are you staring at?" LeShawna broke her thoughts once again.

She couldn't help herself — that blush was back. Her cheeks flared an angry, obvious red. "N-nothing!" Heather stammered, hoping to be convincing.

Apparently not.

LeShawna glared for another split second before her eyes grew wider in realization. That blush, that goofy grin, the staring, the breathless sigh of her name...

"Heather, do you... do you like me?" Heather's grey eyes grew as large as LeShawna's, then mumbling something incoherent before quickly walking past her. No, no, this could not be happening —

An arm snaked around Heather's waist, causing the Asian girl to let out a small yelp as LeShawna swung the queen bee around to face her. "Hold up, you're not leaving here until I have a yes or no."

"Let go of me!" Heather blushed again, her chest heaving from both her struggle to get out of LeShawna's grip, and the intimacy of being so close.

"Just tell me - do you have a crush on me, Heather?" LeShawna asked calmly, her brown eyes looking directly into Heather's grey ones.

"I said —"

"Just tell me!" LeShawna demanded.

"Fine! I like you, okay? I like you a lot. Are you happy now?" Heather glared at her, refusing to display any of her inner emotions — mostly she felt like crying, like being a child again.

To her surprise, LeShawna smiled happily. "Hell, really? You could've just told me, girl."

"Oh, fuck off — what?" Heather raised a brow.

LeShawna looked down at the ground, her grip on Heather's arms loosening, feeling almost like the beginning of a hug. "I like you too, you know."

"R... really?" Heather asked in a small voice. LeShawna nodded, still smiling, giving the Asian girl no time whatsoever to respond as she pressed her lips - they were mango flavored - against Heather's. Heather responded eagerly, her arms wrapping around LeShawna's neck.

A sweet dream, or a beautiful nightmare.

Either way, she didn't want to wake up.

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**It seems I may need to work on making my ficlets just a tad longer… boo. :( Oh, well! I hope you all enjoyed the first of many partnered chapters! c:**


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